


Fussy

by diemarysues



Series: Don't Turn Me Into Anything... Unnatural [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*sighs*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fussy

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely alkjira's fault. (But cathamsters are so cute I can't even.)
> 
> Direct sequel to [Spiteful](http://archiveofourown.org/works/810316). I feel like there's going to be more. Ssh.

It was _incredibly_ alarming to suddenly find everything bigger than usual. Even if they were still in Beorn’s house.

 

Of course, Bilbo was perfectly aware that his surroundings had not changed in size. They only seemed enormous relative to his reduced bulk. And, really, it was quite aggravating to be in this situation in the first place. He’d done nothing wrong. This was all Thorin’s fault.

 

As if the Dwarf-king had suddenly gained the power of mindreading, there was a huff from the other side of the cupboard.

 

Oh, all right. It was Gandalf’s fault too.

 

Thorin, still very much a kitten, meowed. Bilbo watched as a paw with shiny, _sharp_ claws appeared in the space between the bottom of the cupboard and the floor. Even before the Happening, Bilbo had been quite wary of those claws, because Thorin seemed unable to retract them. And now things were worse because Bilbo was sure that he would be more susceptible to bloody injury – again, due to the Happening.

 

His nose twitching worse than usual, Bilbo pushed further up against the wall. Glancing underneath the cupboard again, Bilbo shivered at the pale blue eye staring back at him.

 

“Will you get over here?” Thorin grumbled.

 

Bilbo blinked. “Why can I understand you now?”

 

“Because I’m speaking Westron?” Ah, there was that tone he was so familiar with; the one that Thorin apparently adopted when he thought Bilbo was being as dense as Ruby Bolger’s fruitcake.

 

“No, no, I…” Bilbo rubbed his nose, feeling confused. “Before I… before, when I found you, you were talking only as much as a cat can.”

 

Thorin growled. (As much as a kitten was able to.) “You carried a conversation with me easily enough.”

 

“I was guessing my way through!” he protested. “You are an expressive cat. Kitten.”

 

This was met with another growl. “Well, you can understand me now, can you not?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then come out from there, burglar. I am not going to maul you like some mindless beast.”

 

“I’d prefer if there wasn’t any mauling at all, mindless or no.”

 

“Bilbo –”

 

“Yes, yes.” He nibbled at his nail for a moment before steeling himself and sidling – slowly – from his hiding place.

 

It was a little too bright for his eyes when he emerged into the open and Bilbo took pains not to raise his gaze too high. There was no point re-confirming that all the furniture towered above his head.

 

He still shivered when Thorin approached him, despite the assurances of no mauling. The mostly-black kitten considered him with a disdainful gaze, and he watched as silvery whiskers twitched.

 

“What _are_ you?”

 

Bilbo sighed. Any remaining fear he’d had for knife-sharp teeth and claws disappeared in the face of Thorin’s arrogant confusion. He could deal with that. “A hamster.”

 

The question was clear even with a face completely covered with fur.

 

“A hamster is like a… pet mouse? It’s not uncommon for a Hobbitling to keep one as a childhood companion.”

 

Thorin snorted. “Somehow that is very fitting.”

 

Bilbo sniffed as best he could. “ _I_ had a cat, if you will recall.”

 

“Hmm.” Trying not to look amused – and how did Bilbo know that? – Thorin stepped closer. He still towered over Bilbo in animal form, and that was galling. “That is true.”

 

“Yes. Er, yes it is.”

 

Thorin moved even closer. The bead on his tail caught the light as he twitched it absently. “So what do you suggest we do now?”

 

“Well, I certainly don’t know! It’s not like I got us into this situation in the –” Bilbo cut himself off abruptly, and his voice was shrill to his own ears. “Thorin, what are you doing?”

 

The King paused in his nosing of Bilbo’s hair – er, head fur, rather. “Is this not what cats do?”

 

“You’re not a cat.”

 

“These would beg to differ,” was the flat reply as Thorin held up a paw. Bilbo’s gaze automatically focused on the sharp claws instead of the soft pink pads.

 

“Kitten, then.”

 

Thorin made a dismissive sound, before dismissing Bilbo entirely. The Hobbit-hamster went rigid as the Dwarf-kitten started nosing behind his ear again. Bilbo squeaked – actually _squeaked_ – when he felt a scratchy tongue start licking over his fur. It was only a moment of shock, though when he made his indignant disapproval clear, it went ignored.

 

It was an expected response given Thorin’s character, but still. “Why are you _licking_ me?”

 

The sigh he received in reply was gusty, but the licking did stop. Thank goodness.

 

“Your fur is in appalling condition,” Thorin said, now settling on his hind legs. “Since I promised no mauling, I have to do it this way.”

 

“And how did you think mauling would help?” Bilbo asked, shrill and high.

 

“I thought these –” he flexed his claws, “– would serve as the teeth of a comb. But you are an entirely delicate thing. I do not wish harm on you – even if my previous behaviour has suggested otherwise.”

 

If he could (and perhaps he already was, just unseeingly), he’d have been blushing. “Thorin, I don’t blame you for – hey! Wait! What’s wrong with my fur?” Bilbo ignored the not-so-small twinge of surrealism that suffused him and focused on glaring up at the kitten that was the Dwarf-king. “It’s not appalling!”

 

“It’s always been bad, but too short for braids that could amend the situation. Now it is longer and I,” he leaned down, completely ignoring Bilbo’s glower, “can do this.”

And then he licked Bilbo _again_.

 

“Will you stop that!” Thorin moved out of reach easily when he was swatted at with a stumpy foreleg. It only made Bilbo more cross. “Ooh, when we’re back to normal I’ll – I’ll cut off your braids!”

 

As culturally sensitive – or insensitive – as this threat was, Thorin merely looked amused. “Even when you are your Hobbity self you will not reach.”

 

“I don’t have to. I’ll wait.”

 

Thorin gave a cat-shrug and started to wash his face. “It is not so easy to sneak in my vicinity, much less to sneak on me.”

 

“Hobbits are very light on their feet,” was the mocking retort. “I’ve crept away from Goblins. I can certainly creep up on you.”

 

“Fine. But that still necessitates our being returned to body – something that has not come to pass.”

 

When Thorin met his eyes and raised his front paw, Bilbo felt a flash of very real fear splinter through his (tiny) body. Then he found himself on his back, kept down by a paw on his belly, and was overtaken by outrage at being put in such an undignified position.

 

And then he saw where Thorin’s head was. Mouth. Teeth. Sharp.

 

“No mauling,” he reminded weakly.

 

Thorin bobbed a nod. “No mauling, as I promised.” He relaxed his hold, but not enough to allow Bilbo to scramble back onto his feet. No, Thorin kept him in his position, before leaning down and –

 

“No! Thorin, you stop right now!”

 

He looked bored at the interruption, though annoyance frayed the edges of his expression. “What is it now?”

 

“It’s _you_! Let me up this instant!”

 

“It will not take that long if you only stop making such a fuss. Your fur here is not nearly in as bad a condition as on your head and back, so I can be finished quickly.”

 

That may be, but they weren’t wearing _any_ clothes, and if Thorin continued further down that would be –

 

Bilbo rallied, despite his agitation. “Just because we are now animals doesn’t mean that we’re… animals.”

 

Thorin hack-coughed. Bilbo assumed it was the equivalent of a bark of laughter – not that he’d heard Thorin laugh very much before this.  
An apt observation.”

 

Swallowing, Bilbo relaxed only marginally. “Then you understand why you – what I Don’t want you to – why –”

 

“I believe I do.” Thorin sighed, sending a gust of honey-smelling breath over Bilbo’s face. “Very well.”

 

It was with no small amount of surprise that Bilbo found himself released, and allowed to right himself. That surprise grew when he gazed upwards and saw that Thorin looked almost… almost sad.

 

“Thorin –”

 

“Do not worry yourself, Master Baggins. I am a Dwarf of my word… even if I am technically not a Dwarf now.” His tail lashed from left to right. “I will not accost you again.”

 

“Well that’s a relief, but –”

 

“It was not my intention to appear boorish and… uncaring of your wishes, I only wanted to…” Thorin trailed off, and stayed silent for long enough that Bilbo was afraid he wouldn’t continue. After a long, still moment, the mostly-black kitten dropped his chin. “Among cats, such a thing would be considered affection.”

 

Bilbo’s heart raced in his chest like a butterfly’s fluttering wings. He slowly placed his paw atop Thorin’s much bigger one. “You should ask first. You shouldn’t _presume_. You tend to do that.”

 

If possible, Thorin now looked even more remorseful. He was more expressive as a kitten than as a Dwarf, it had to be said. Most incongruous.

 

“But… you listened. It took you a good while to do so, but you listened and respected what I wanted. I… appreciate that.”

 

“I should have heard your words sooner. I should have –” Startled, Thorin blinked, and looked down as Bilbo hit him again. Punched him, really, so far as a hamster could manage to land a blow. “What in Mahal’s name are you up to?”

 

“You! You’ve picked a fine time to act deaf again!”

 

Thorin seemed genuinely perplexed in the face of this reaction. Bilbo didn’t hesitate to elucidate.

 

“Listen to me properly.” He took a deep breath. “I protested your actions primarily because I wasn’t warned – and because I do not think it should be done. I’m averse to the, the action itself, but not the intention behind it.”

 

Seeming relieved that he was no longer being assaulted, Thorin shifted. “But what are you saying?”

 

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. “Bring your head down here.”

 

“Why –”

 

“ _Now_ , Thorin.” And when the kitten bent down, eyes on level with the hamster’s, Bilbo darted forward and delicately licked Thorin’s pink nose. “There! Was that clear enough, you – aah!” Thorin’s tongue was horribly rough against his face. “You are ghastly.”

 

In an abrupt about face in expression, Thorin now looked insufferably smug. “I assume that this means I am no longer in danger of having my braids cut off?”

 

“That remains to be seen. I’ll ask Fíli for a knife all the same.”

 

“Mmm. Your little dagger should work equally as well.” Ignoring the spluttering reply this garnered, Thorin sauntered towards the open door, tail held high and straight. “Coming?”

 

Bilbo wrinkled his nose, but padded quickly after him.

**Author's Note:**

> alkjira says we're going to make hamsterfic a thing. I say it'll be a thing to hate ;)


End file.
